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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301273">Painted on His Skin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/krystalliumm/pseuds/krystalliumm'>krystalliumm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Auror Ron Weasley, Aurors, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Crying During Sex, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex (Past), Drunken Confessions (Past), Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Gay, Hickeys, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Kinks, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Manhandling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Sexual Content, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, turtlenecks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:27:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/krystalliumm/pseuds/krystalliumm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up with hickeys trailed on his neck and vivid flashbacks of last night wasn't his typical way of starting a morning. </p><p>But he was Draco Malfoy, and he'll do whatever it took to act like nothing had happened at all. The fact that his Auror partner was acting odd around him didn't help either.</p><p>𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>570</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Painted on His Skin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>based on prompt no. 1 for the h/d oneshot challenge on tumblr:</p><p>"we got really drunk last night without really meaning to and i'm scared i might have done some weird shit and why are you looking at me like that stop" au</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Painted on His Skin<br/></strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The kiss felt rough and hot and nothing like all the others he’s shared before, with rogue hands furiously ripping at his shirt, party music blasting somewhere near him, yet sounding ever-so far away—he couldn’t care enough to pull away from the tongue that savaged him, the lingering touches that craved for his flushed, bare skin…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco slipped a pearl-trimmed comb through his blond locks, staring at his own reflection through the mirror with a disdainful sniff. A thick blanket wrapped around his waist, one side dangerously dipping down to his hips. He’d always fancied hot, warm baths—it was something he looked forward to after going through hours and hours of tiring paperwork.</p><p> </p><p>But when shifting his body even for just a quick moment felt like a dagger violently piercing through his head, Draco would much rather drown in his sea of blankets for one week straight.</p><p> </p><p>He knew going to the club with Potter was a terrible idea—it was the git’s fault that Draco woke up passed out on the floor of his home, with absolutely no recollection of what had happened last night.</p><p> </p><p>Draco assumed someone had dropped him off at his apartment, but even the thought itself was almost impossible to consider—none of his friends had enough free time to accompany him to the party with Potter, thus excluding them out of his choices and leaving out all the do-good Gryffindors.</p><p> </p><p>The only clues of who might’ve been daring enough to bring him home was that they must’ve really known Draco rather well; it wasn’t often that people knew where he lived, aside from the Manor. But there was also something else, something that veiled a significant memory, somewhere in the back of his mind…</p><p> </p><p>It was the sweet, faint scent of chocolate that lingered in his own damn <em>bed.</em></p><p> </p><p>From the other room, he heard a doorknob click open, a black figure dashing about and swinging the door close. Draco shut his eyes, pinching his nose, waiting for the strides of expensive, high heels to come closer, and closer, then—</p><p> </p><p>“Draco!” Pansy’s head slipped inside the bathroom, her eyes going slightly wide as she took in Draco’s half-naked body, still sheen with trickling water running down his backside. “Looks like someone had a fun night.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco groaned in frustration, trying to swat her out of his sight. “Out, out, out!” he hissed, muttering a curse when his elbow hit one of the intricate glass vases on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>Pansy swiftly parried his attempts at pushing her away, her lips pulling into a broad, devious smile that alarmingly reminded him of a particular, nasty cat that was up to no good.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that…” she neared closer, staring at his throat in a delight that made him flinch. “Is that a <em>hickey?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be so crude,” Draco snapped and, for the <em>love</em> of him, furiously fought the raging blush on his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Aha!” Pansy grinned victoriously, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You got screwed over by a handsome gentleman last night, didn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t—” he spluttered, defensively trying to cover himself up, “no one <em>even—”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you have all the symptoms, darling,” clarified Pansy, crooning at him as she brought a hand to his chin, tilting his head up in bemusement. “Neck marked with rosy bruises, red swollen lips, and I think I see a dent of teeth over there; bit of a masochist, was he?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s eyes narrowed, wringing her prying hands away from his face, blatantly ignoring the small voice in his head that told him the female Slytherin had a fair point. What if he <em>did</em> drink more than he remembered? What if he <em>did</em> have a rather intriguing night with a besuited bloke?</p><p> </p><p>“For your information, these are bruises,” he told her flatly, ignoring the faint ringing in his ears when short, broken pieces of the drunken party flashed before his eyes. “I got into a dirty fight with a wasted sod last night, and at the time, the odds were certainly not in my favour.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, right after sighing disappointedly with the back of her hand resting on her forehead. “How tragic. My childhood best friend remains a virgin, after all these years of fine men running after him.”</p><p> </p><p>She daintily wiped off her imaginary tears, ignoring his stutters of indignation. “When will he ever realise that one simple martini could lead to something far more hot and interesting?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco flushed darkly, kicking her in the shin as hard as he could, but after having dealt with his antics for centuries, Pansy was practically immune. “Out, you <em>heathen,”</em> he demanded. “I do not want to discuss my sex life with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pff, as if you even have one,” she scoffed, checking her nails. When Draco made another attempt at shoving the woman out of his bathroom, she quickly raised her hands in surrender.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay, fine! Even if you kick me out, you’re still my best friend, and what am I if not a good saint to help you heal your…” she paused, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “…bruises?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco groaned, crossing his arms. “Fine. Go ahead, you brute.” He watched Pansy shoot him a grin, her manicured hands carefully plucking out a bottle of thick, pale cream from the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to heal them,” he added. “Just cover it up with concealer or something.”</p><p> </p><p>That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, considering the fact that he spoke too soon before his brain could catch on. Pansy slowly turned her head to him, putting the crystal bottle back on the counter with a light clink.</p><p> </p><p>They shared a moment of silence, long enough for the tension to seep in.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” she started, unsure, “you want to <em>hide</em> your hickeys?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco frantically looked away, trying to think of disturbing images in his head to get rid of the rapid bloom on his face, but it was too late—Pansy had already seen it, her lips pulling into a derisive simper. “You sure are one kinky man, Draco Malfoy. Do you want me to help you find the guy who gave those to you, too?”</p><p> </p><p>He choked on his own breath, the knot in his throat tight as he tried to cough it out. <em>“What?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’ll ask Blaise to help me hunt your poor Prince Charming down.” Draco started spluttering again, unable to string together a few words, let alone be witty about it as she went on gleefully, “You do know that you’re a terrible liar, right? Especially if we’re on the topic of sex? I mean, it wouldn’t be so obvious if you stopped turning that pink color every time I mention your little sexcapade last ni—”</p><p> </p><p>“For Merlin’s sake, just get it on already!”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Calloused hands roamed him, his skin, his throat, his waist. He didn’t care about the dancing spots of black blur around them, didn’t care about the painful clash of teeth as they ravaged one another like it was the last, didn’t care about anything and everything he’s ever been taught since birth. This—this was what it felt like to be alive.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s breath caught in his throat, eyes going wide at the abrupt memory that invaded his mind. He unconsciously raised a hand to his neck, feeling the light powder of makeup shift under his turtleneck as he forced himself to walk faster through the aimless halls of the Ministry.</p><p> </p><p>He secretly felt blessed that there were no important Auror cases to be dealt at the moment, because if it were otherwise, then Draco was more than certain that a bit of sweat was all it took to reveal what really was beneath Pansy’s lavish concealer.</p><p> </p><p>Draco faked a polite smile as he went past one of the security guards up front the main entrance. “Laurent.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurent offered him a small nod back, his eyes darting to the blond’s clothes curiously. “I believe you mistook this month for winter, Mr. Malfoy,” he said curtly, a heavy accent dripping off his voice.</p><p> </p><p>Draco tried to stay still as the guard swiftly pulled out his wand, casting a quick Scanning Spell over him. “I don’t always wear a tight button-up suit, if you must know,” he stated coolly, ignoring the same disgruntled looks he received from his other coworkers that passed by.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t often that he became self-conscious, especially about his type of fashion—it was just that it wasn’t really popularly known that he, Draco Malfoy, rumored Death-Eater heir, expert Auror and Potioneer in the Ministry, wore soft <em>turtlenecks</em> and casual trousers.</p><p> </p><p>Laurent finished the scan, throwing him a bemused sort of smile. “Well, it fits you. I’ll be looking forward for your partner’s reaction, Mr. Malfoy.” He gestured to the office door embedded on the far hallway. “Have a good day.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco grimaced, his shoulders going taut as he sauntered through the quiet halls, too distracted by his own thoughts to bid the guard farewell. Partner. Potter. Of course. He scrunched up his nose in disdain, unconsciously preparing himself as he reached his office. Potter’s office. Their office.</p><p> </p><p>He swung the door open without knocking, striding as quick as he could to his own empty desk on the right side of the room, all the while keeping his head down and avoiding eye-contact with <em>him.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Draco,” greeted Potter, and it was so utterly <em>calm</em> and composed that the blond had to restrain himself from strangling something. He heard a few sloshes of tea, the incessant shuffling of paper, then— “How are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco, having already sat on his chair, stiffly crossed his leg over the other. He didn’t answer him for the first few moments as he wandlessly shut the door close, knowing there was a pair of bright green eyes staring at him intently.</p><p> </p><p>Gathering his courage, his voice painfully strained, he mumbled, “I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine?” the faint creak of a chair spinning, and then—fuck. The idiot must be facing him directly now, and Draco was doing everything he could to stop from squirming in his seat. Then, a light chuckle. “That’s all you have to say about yesterday?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there something I’m missing here?” said Draco, trying to sound bored and uninterested as he fiddled with his wrist-sleeve. From the way Potter spoke, it was lacking its usual temper—if anything, it sounded a lot more softer; pleasing to the ears, even.</p><p> </p><p>He heard a gentle sip of tea, then the clink of a mug dropping to a table. “Well, considering what happened last night, I would’ve at least thought it merited a ‘good job, well done’ from the almighty Draco Malfoy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shove off,” muttered Draco irritably, earning a laugh from the other as he finally collected enough courage to throw Potter a glance.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re wearing a turtleneck too,” blurted Draco before he could stop himself.</p><p> </p><p>Potter grinned—a sadistic sort of grin, the bastard—as his shadowed gaze fell to the blond’s veiled neck, just like his own. “Turns out turtlenecks are great at hiding things, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco froze, and it seemed that with it, his train of thought too. His mind went blank, and his lips fell wordless. Potter knew, then. He knew who shagged the hell out of him at the party, Potter knew what he was hiding beneath the ever-so-thin cloth that sinfully clung to his throat—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Please,” he gasped, trembling with pleas rolling off his tongue, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He felt a mouth pull into a smirk against his sweltering skin, and slowly, the teeth that had left its mark on his throat were soothed by a sudden warmth.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I have no clue of what you’re talking about,” said Draco, his voice cracking when he attempted to try and sound nonchalant. He turned away, sniffling. “Now, if you excuse me, I have paperwork to finish.”</p><p> </p><p>Potter raised an eyebrow at him, still not averting his gaze. “Paperwork? You’d rather do that than the guy who you literally did it with last night?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco managed a weak snort, dipping his quill in an inkwell as his other hand sorted stacked papers on the left. “Unlike you, Potter, I actually want to keep my job instead of looking for someone who, pray tell, I don’t even remember the face of.”</p><p> </p><p>The feather of his quill brushed against his cheek as he began scribbling down on one of the documents. The blond heard a muffled choke beside him—which sounded rather vile, actually—then the splatter of warm tea that soiled the marble floors. He didn’t bother looking up, dipping his quill with ink again.</p><p> </p><p>“You—” Potter seemed to straighten now, awkwardly hiding the spill on the ground beneath his shoe. “You’re kidding with me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t <em>kid,</em> Potter,” he said, rolling his eyes as he neatly placed his quill beside his papers, just before turning his whole frame towards the other Auror. “Why? Do you happen to know something that I don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>Potter looked flustered, all of his bravado and undying confidence earlier suddenly leaving his body. “I—no. Nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco stared at him, slowly inhaling through his nose and counting one to five. “If you know the guy, at least tell me that he’s decent-looking.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what you’re worried about?” If Potter didn’t look so incredulous, then Draco might’ve taken him more seriously. “Merlin, <em>please</em> tell me you at least remember a few things from last night.”</p><p> </p><p>The blond went crimson, knowing that out of context, their conversation was not one for the innocent. “What does it matter to you?” he muttered under his breath, ignoring the faint ringing in his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that we—that we—” Potter let out a string of curses, “—that you’re my Auror partner!”</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s jaw dropped, speechless. Sure, he and Potter had grown rather close over the past few years, working together as Aurors, putting their famed rivalry behind them—but not once have they ever gathered enough courage to let things get<em> personal.</em></p><p> </p><p>Yesterday was a little exception—an attempt to see if they could become something more; an attempt to see if they could go from simple coworkers to…</p><p> </p><p>“Friends—we’re friends,” said Potter tightly, a strain evident in his voice. “You’re my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco stiffened, his mouth going dry as he forced out a half-hearted attempt of a sneer. “I don’t think I’m entitled to share anything with you, despite being your <em>friend.”</em></p><p> </p><p>It came out harsher than he’d intended, and it wasn’t really the tone he was going for—if anything, Draco meant to sound like someone who was grateful for even having civil company in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>He grimaced at the flame that glinted in Potter’s eyes, not realising his shoulders were tense as it died down to nothing but empty abyss.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” said Potter quietly, every word right and measured, “I just meant that I’m here, you know? As a…as a friend. You can tell me anything or nothing at all—I don’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>There it was again. The way his voice fell a little too flat, the sudden tightness that clawed in his throat, seemingly making it harder to utter out a word.</p><p> </p><p>Draco sat up straighter in his seat, swallowing. “Right. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t speak to each other long after that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Who knew you’d sound so pretty like this?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His breath hitched out a moan as he writhed, trying to plead for more of the heat that made his skin feel like it was burning under a sea of flames, more of the blinding ache that slowly dulled to a curling pleasure, more of the long, slick thrusts of wet fingers that made him sob softly—</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“There you two are!”</p><p> </p><p>“Weasley,” said Draco tightly, wincing a little. Using every tactic and maneuver his father had taught him about proper pureblood manners, he offered the redhead a pained smile. “Your tie’s wrinkled.”</p><p> </p><p>“Could care less about that,” said Weasley flippantly, waving him off with a light shake of his hand. “But seriously—is it Matching Couples Day or something, or did you two both wear matching turtlenecks on purpose?”</p><p> </p><p>“Really funny,” Potter snorted, shifting uneasily on his feet. It was in no way subtle, and they both knew that, but he covered it up quickly with a smug smirk. “What’s even funnier is that I can still recall you being the first one to pass out during the party, Ron.” He paused, pretending to think. “I think ‘Mione had to drag you home herself.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco couldn’t help but chuckle at Weasley’s slowly reddening face, but just like Potter, the Gryffindor gathered his wits just as quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, thank you for reminding me—“ the redhead propped himself on his elbows, leaning forward on his desk— “‘Mione told me she actually <em>saw</em> you leave the bar with a particular someone last night! I mean, it’s obvious enough who it is, but the least you two could do was wear different <em>shirts.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Potter choked in protest, kicking Weasley—who, in return, cursed aloud. Draco only arched an elegant eyebrow, pursing his lips. “Potter shagged someone too, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well,” Weasley sniggered, shaking his head at himself as he rubbed his ankle, “you don’t need to pretend around me, Malfoy, honestly—I always knew that Harry liked y—”</p><p> </p><p>This time, the kick that Potter gave Weasley was much sharper. The redhead cried out, knocking over Draco’s pile of colour-coded files and unto the floor. Draco would’ve been delighted at the sight of Weasley bouncing around on one leg at any time, but the fact that his papers were sprawled on the floor <em>and</em> Potter shagged someone else last night circled his mind in an endless repeat.</p><p> </p><p>Potter hissed something in Weasley’s ear, something that quiet enough so Draco couldn’t hear. Draco watched in slight satisfaction as the redhead’s expressions morphed into irritation, disbelief, pure <em>shock</em> that made his face go white, then—</p><p> </p><p>“Haha, okay, you won’t mind if I just talk to Harry here for a bit, yeah?” the redhead laughed in a tight voice, obviously distraught by whatever Potter told him. Draco couldn’t help but gape incredulously as Weasley dragged the poor man in the direction of the exit by his tie.</p><p> </p><p>“But you—” the blond’s mouth dropped, even as he gestured helplessly to the folders and assorted papers on the floor. “I hate to be so blunt, but you <em>literally</em> just made a fucking mess, and you expect me to clean it up by <em>myself?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Bye, Malfoy!" </p><p> </p><p>Potter could only throw him an apologetic look as the door slammed shut, and along with it the two Gryffindors.</p><p> </p><p>Draco gawked after them, right before deciding to close his mouth and curse Weasley to the darkest depths of hell.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You’re joking.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not,” Harry tried to say as slowly as he could, his patience running thin. “He doesn’t have a clue about anything that happened last night, like I just said.”</p><p> </p><p>Ron gaped at him, his eyes wide as his ill-addled brain struggled to string one line of words together. “But you—I was—oh, that is <em>messed up.”</em></p><p> </p><p>“You don’t think?” Harry groaned, letting his face fall into his hands. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, er,” Ron splayed his hands out helplessly, “I’m not ‘Mione, but you should probably tell him.”</p><p> </p><p>Unmistakable horror crossed Harry’s face. Then; a nervous laugh. “You want me to walk in there and say, ‘Hey, I fucked you last night during the party—oh, and don’t forget, we did it on your bed afterwards, too?’”</p><p> </p><p>Ron’s face turned a pale shade of green. “You did it on his—” he coughed, rubbing small circles on his temples. “I don’t even want to know. Just—just tell Malfoy, but do it gently."</p><p> </p><p>“Gently?”</p><p> </p><p>“Gently,” repeated Ron, croaking a little, “but <em>firmly.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Harry slowly exhaled through his nose, then back in. He nodded weakly. “Okay. I can do that.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Draco fiddled with his quill for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. After hours of frustrated muttering and resorting of folders that Weasley had ever-so-ruined, he became restless. Even as Potter came back with a nervous smile, neither of them exchanged a word with the other.</p><p> </p><p>He always hated random tapping or twitching knees—the sound always made Draco’s nostrils flare in annoyance because it distracted him from his work. But with Potter doing it, the noise sounded like it was amplified by a <em>hundred.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Potter,” said Draco calmly, not looking away from his desk. “Do stop that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop what?” Potter asked, genuinely confused.</p><p> </p><p>“That,” the blond said irritably, flicking his wrist in Potter’s direction. The other man murmured a faint ‘oh’ as the sound of fingers drumming against wood finally ceased, leaving the air still and empty.</p><p> </p><p>Draco smiled to himself; perfect quiet. He neatly placed his quill on the side, savouring every second of silence that ticked by, then—</p><p> </p><p>“You’re really good at remembering things, right?”</p><p> </p><p>It was nice while it lasted.</p><p> </p><p>Draco fought the urge to lift his hand up to his throat and soothingly rub the ache that bloomed on his skin. “Yes,” he said tightly. “What do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“So, that means—” Potter awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck— “you remember who, er…”</p><p> </p><p>“Who shagged me?” Draco studied Potter carefully, taking note of tense posture and labored breathing. Then, he shrugged. “If I had taken a clear look at him, then I might’ve remembered.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” said Potter airily.</p><p> </p><p>“But something tells me—” Draco turned away from his papers, completely facing the other man this time, his eyes careful and calculative— “that you know who he is.”</p><p> </p><p>Potter didn’t even deny it this time; he simply nodded, meeting his stare.</p><p> </p><p>Draco smiled victoriously, crossing his arms. “Who is it, then?”</p><p> </p><p>Potter’s eyes rose to his, and at the time, Draco thought he looked rather cocky and arrogant despite his uneasy voice—his legs were crossed, one shoe-clad foot touching Draco’s ankle slightly, and as if the world wanted to mock him, his shirt sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows, exposing that lovely dark skin.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you’re gonna like him,” blurted Potter all of a sudden.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Draco felt his gaze drop to Potter’s forearms, swallowing at the lean stretch of muscle that braced against one another. “Try me.”</p><p> </p><p>Potter hummed pleasantly, raising a hand to the collar of his turtleneck and inching a finger in. Draco stared, hazily entranced at the slow reveal of bare skin, until a tiny yelp of surprise escaped him when he finally realised what Potter was doing.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Potter questioned, his eyes sparkling innocently as he rolled down his collar, showing off his… his… fuck, there were <em>nail</em> scratches. Why were there— “I’m sure you have worse,” he added, smirking when the blond couldn’t find it in himself to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like to inform you that my partner had been kind enough to—to leave only a few marks,” Draco snapped, hating how he stuttered at the last part as a flustered heat brought a flame to his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Potter cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“At least I’m not some masochist who likes having their parts <em>mauled</em> with—with those things!” he bit back, defensively raising a hand to play with the fabric of his own turtleneck, as if to protect himself.</p><p> </p><p>Potter seemed surprised for no more than a second before a laugh bellowed from his throat, filled with a wicked delight. “Gods,” he choked on himself, grinning at him. “I never knew I’d <em>ever</em> hear you say that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t flaunt your little one-night stand with Weaslette in front of me!”</p><p> </p><p>Draco turned a murderous shade of red, and even more so when he let his own words sink in. He could’ve laughed at himself at how unnaturally wrong he sounded, at how he felt a bitter taste on the back of his throat, and the way his mind clung to one desperate hope to do <em>anything</em>—look <em>anywhere,</em> as long as it wasn’t Potter’s stupid face.</p><p> </p><p>A stupid face that he didn’t know was smiling gently, a small huff escaping his chapped lips. “You think it was Ginny?”</p><p><br/>“Oh, come on now, Potter—who else would it be?” Draco scowled, flicking his narrowed eyes to the other man before shaking his head glumly. “Should’ve known. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t?” Potter spoke up in that same confident tone, but he could tell the bold arrogance had wavered slightly.</p><p> </p><p>Draco didn’t spare a glance at him. “No, frankly, it doesn’t.” When dry silence answered him back, almost as if the gods wanted to mock him, the blond frustratedly let out a growl that had his quill startle and roll to the floor. “Why am I even <em>talking</em> to you? This is a waste of my time, I’m better off doing something else—hell, I don’t even know how I can still <em>stand</em> you after all these—”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe if Draco wasn’t so intent on ranting his messy, scribbled thoughts out, he would’ve noticed his Auror partner cautiously get up from his desk and make his reckless move towards him.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe if Draco had been paying the smallest bits of attention to what’s happening around him rather than burning a hole through his papers with a fierce glare, he would’ve had the time to process the way a hand snuck its way to his forearm, and another spinning his chair to firmly hold him in place.</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s stuttering breath left him as a soft, feather-light kiss was planted on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>And all of it came rushing back.</p><p> </p><p>The cold warmth of holding a bottle of firewhiskey in his weak grasp, the laugh that had bubbled in his throat when he laid eyes upon a familiar green-eyed man, the frantic, passionate kiss they shared as whispers of ‘I’ve been waiting, waiting so long for this,’ was painted on his skin, and—</p><p> </p><p>Potter pulled away, rising slightly, but nonetheless towering over the blond’s trembling form as he innocently tilted his head at him. Draco had always felt pride in being taller than him, knowingly smirking whenever Potter couldn’t reach something, but at the moment, he’s never felt smaller under his dark sultry gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you remember yet?” Potter murmured, low and careful. Draco’s toes curled, trying to gather enough of his wits to retort back a snarky comment—but when Potter spoke in that deep, timbre tone, all that left him was a tiny and pathetic, <em>‘oh.’</em></p><p> </p><p>Potter’s smirk grew, his eyes twinkling as a chuckle echoed in his ears. “That’s all you have to say?"</p><p> </p><p>“I—” he swallowed, trying to focus on the emerald eyes that peered down at him as his mind screamed for <em>something</em>—a slow ache that began stirring from below, twitching against the fabric of his pants. Draco knew his resolve was breaking, little by little, and so did Potter when he took his time rolling down the blond’s turtleneck, revealing…</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” he mumbled, hating how he instinctively bared his neck for him, to show Potter, because he wanted <em>more.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Hm.” Potter smiled kindly at him, humming low in his throat as he trailed a rough-padded finger over each of Draco’s marks. He did it carefully, touching every single one with a gentle thumb, knowing which ones to press harder on to make the blond’s breath hitch.</p><p> </p><p>“You've probably thought about it in the morning,” Potter mused, "and who might've possibly shagged you, of all people," and this time, he leaned in to burrow his nose in Draco’s neck, one finger holding down the turtleneck in place. He expected him to move—what Draco didn’t expect was Potter to breathe him in, deeply, then—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He was inhaling his scent.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Draco made a soft sound of protest, red tinting his flushed cheeks as the ache in his trousers grew painful to bear, Potter only responded by tsking at him and clutching a fistful of his pretty, pristine locks. Draco gasped, mouth parted to hiss out a likely insult, but it wasn’t until the other man sharply pulled his head back when he let out a sweet moan.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew you were aroused by this.” Potter went after his throat again, his sinful tongue licking and sucking on the pink marks that were lovely against the pale skin. Draco couldn’t help but to harshly bite on his bottom lip, trying not to let more embarrassing sounds from escaping.</p><p> </p><p>“P—Potter,” Draco tried, voice raspy as he attempted to move, but the grip on his tousled hair grew firm—enough to send him a gentle warning, but not too rough to hurt the blond.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re—we’re at work,” he whispered again, but couldn’t stop himself from parting his mouth in a breathless groan as teeth grazed the sensitive spot under his ear.</p><p> </p><p>Then, a powerful silencing charm hit the door, making Draco jerk beneath him in surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait—” he gasped when Potter’s hand slithered down and unto the hard bulge in his pants, caressing and palming and <em>touching</em> him in a way that sent perfect shivers up his spine— “fuck, Potter, wait! The…the locking charms—” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care if they walk in and see you like this,” Potter cut him off shortly, leaning back to angle Draco’s head—to meet him in the eyes whose sea of greens were nowhere to be found, swallowed by clouded lust that stared back. A look of bemusement adorned his face when Draco looked away, flustered. “I thought you’d know by now that the only thing I care about is…”</p><p> </p><p>Potter glanced at him, tilting his head sideways. “Oh, you know, taking what’s mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Draco breathed out, a little of his old flame bursting to life as the Auror unclasped his belt buckle, tossing it to the floor. “Taking what’s yours since what, last night?”</p><p> </p><p>Potter hummed, a promising glint in his eye as he pulled the blond to his feet, making him stumble. Before Draco could complain any further, he found himself roughly shoved against a wall, his trousers loose and low past his hips.</p><p> </p><p>He heavily exhaled through his nose, letting himself be manhandled as girdled hands touched him <em>everywhere</em>—one whose fingertips were teasingly stroking his inner thighs, and another prying down trousers in desperation.</p><p> </p><p>“Be gentle, will you?” Draco hissed, even as a traitorous part of his body twitched achingly when Potter’s hand drew so close to his cock, leaving ghost touches at its wake.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really think I don’t know that you love this?” Potter inched two fingers on the blond’s bottom lip, urging his pretty mouth open. “Come on, Draco, you never liked being vanilla—you just always loved the fucking pain with the pleasure, hm?” the blond gagged a little, drool spilling past his lips when Potter took on a steady pace to fuck his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Draco let out strings of moans, knowing he was flushing red, and even more so when he felt a hand steadily tug down his pants, revealing a swelling cock that pressed against his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Potter murmured, “always so pretty,” with a small smile as he kept on with the unforgiving pace with his fingers. Draco choked, eyes fluttered shut, realising with mounting horror that if he were pushed any further, tears would fall down his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Until Potter slowed, nonchalantly pulling out as he inspected his fingers, coated and gleaming with thick saliva. Draco whimpered softly, knowing what mess he must’ve looked at the moment—hair tangled, his face streaked with messy tears that fell to his chin, lips plump and swollen…</p><p><br/>Potter looked innocently at him, feigning concern. “Crying already?”  </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck—fuck you,” Draco groaned, his head thumping back against the wall as Potter kissed him again, the same time as a hand found its way to his red, aching cock. But the Auror didn’t move—not in the way that the blond desperately wanted. He only fondled Draco’s erection, delicately watching as a bead of pearl-white precum appeared on top.</p><p> </p><p>Potter’s breath ghosted against his lips. “Do you want me to stop?” and this time, it was genuine, his eyes flicking to Draco worriedly.</p><p> </p><p>He quickly shook his head, glossy eyes meeting his. “No,” Draco whispered. “Don’t—don’t stop. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Potter didn’t reply—he only hummed in satisfaction as he circled the blond’s rosy rim from behind, and without warning, shoved two fingers in with a filthy, wet sound.</p><p> </p><p>Draco moaned brokenly, helpless as he bucked his hips up for more. Potter chuckled at him as he harshly thrusted in his fingers, all the while making the blond tremble as he teased his cock further. Heat pooled in Draco’s stomach as his eyes slowly started to lose focus, his body arching into Potter’s touch. His lips broke out into a whine, knowing he was close, then—</p><p> </p><p>Potter’s hand slid away, his fingers pulled out, and all the warmth that was tingling up Draco’s body washed away.</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s chest rose and fell in an uneven pattern, his breathing hard as he glanced at the other man with a confused look.</p><p> </p><p>Potter smiled at him sweetly. “You’re coming on nothing but my cock, Malfoy, so why don’t you turn around for me like a good boy?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco knew it wouldn’t do him good to throw out an offhanded comment, so he willfully spun around, a steady flush creeping up his neck.</p><p> </p><p>He heard Potter lean in, whispering a praise in his ear that had Draco moaning softly. He only realised his legs were shaking when he felt his trousers fall to his knees, with something hard pressing in on his rim.</p><p> </p><p>“Potter—<em>ngh,”</em> Draco’s eyes slipped shut as he felt the hard length push in, his thighs shaking. “Fuck,” he whispered, “fuck, Potter, <em>move—”</em></p><p> </p><p>That was all the other Auror needed as he thrusted in roughly, eliciting a shuddering cry from the blond. Potter set on a brutal pace, growling as Draco clenched around him, not caring any longer that the bounds of his restraints snapped. He didn’t seem to slow at all, even as Draco’s mumbles of ‘please,’ ‘slower,’ and ‘Harry,’ echoed in his ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Gods,” Potter groaned, using one hand to press the blond’s head deeper into the wall as a hand snuck its way to the crying blond’s hips. “Just like last night. <em>Fuck.”</em></p><p> </p><p>As calloused fingers found their way into Draco’s locks once more, Potter’s mouth hovered over his collarbone before sucking, causing the blond to release another high, desperate whine.</p><p> </p><p>Potter began snapping his hips forward again and soon, white noise and static filled his ears, his mind blank and hazy. Draco couldn’t focus on anything but the hands touching him, the bundle of nerves abused inside him, the way his eyes rolled back as incoherent words tumbled out of his mouth…</p><p> </p><p>Draco came with a lewd cry, which turned into a pathetic sob as he felt himself being slowly filled up. Heavy exhaustion hit him to the head, and even as Potter pulled out and spun him around, he felt too lightheaded to notice.</p><p> </p><p>Draco felt hot warmth embrace his body, and he can’t help but bury his face in it as a body held him back with a lover’s gentleness.</p><p> </p><p>“I definitely remember now,” his voice cracked as he spoke, breaking the soothing silence that hung in the air.</p><p> </p><p>Potter seemed to be surprised at the sudden change of mood, letting out a laugh as he placed a light kiss on Draco’s forehead. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” he murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely,” the blond mumbled, shivering lightly. “I think I’m gonna need more turtlenecks. Pansy’s makeup was no use.”</p><p> </p><p>Potter’s face cracked into a tired grin. Draco wanted to see more of that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey, Malfoy!”</p><p> </p><p>Draco didn’t look up as Weasley entered his office, adorning a smile that was way too bright for his own good. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed as he put down his papers with a wince. “What could you possibly want this late in the afternoon, Weasley?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, nothing important,” said the redhead cheerily. “Just here to tell you that my mum invited you to the Burrow for dinner tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>It was unfortunate that as the words were leaving Weasley’s mouth, Draco had been taking a sip of his coffee. He spluttered undignifiedly, placing down his cup again on the table as he ignored the other’s shit-eating grin.</p><p> </p><p>“And <em>why,</em> exactly, does she want me there?” he croaked out.</p><p> </p><p>Weasley’s grin turned entirely feral. “I thought you of all people would know, Malfoy, that it’s disrespectful to refuse dinner with your boyfriend’s family.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco’s mind took a few seconds to process what he’s heard, and when he did get there, he only managed to throw a wandless jinx at the laughing redhead as the door slammed shut.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t stop the smile that graced his own lips later when he told Harry about it—when he told Harry he finally had a family that wanted to welcome him with open arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tumblr: @krystalliumm</p><p>follow my acc for more updates on the h/d oneshot challenge!</p><p>❀</p><p>what do you think? this was so fun to write omfg</p></blockquote></div></div>
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